


You've Been Stilinksi'd

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, canon divergent after s02e3 of teen wolf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:37:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thank you, tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is basically just for my own personal pleasure. BUT CAN I SAY that I would love, love, love, love to hear some ideas and just little things that ya'll want to see in a SPN/TW crossover. I want to try and make this sort of interactive. Just sort of as an experiment. Just leave your idea(/s) in the comments and I'll see what I can do with them.

“Bobby called. There’s been some weird stuff happening in a place called,” Sam squints at his notes, “Beacon Hills? It’s in California, there’s been, like, five murders, a grave robbery, and several disappearances. All in like three months.”

“Bobby say what he thinks it is?” Dean asks around a mouthful of sandwich. 

“No,” Sam makes a face at Dean. “But he’s not even totally sure it’s all related.”

“So, I guess we go to Beacon Hills?” 

“I guess so.”

***

The trail leads to Lydia Martin who slams the door in their face and then to some kid named Jackson Whittemore who they can only get a hold off at school because the kid doesn’t appear to exist outside of school and lacrosse practice. This meeting of Winchester and Whittemore ends with Dean storming out of the principal’s office and Sam following close behind.

“Well, that kid was a dick.” Dean shuts Baby’s door huffily. “ _My name is Jackson Whittemore and I’m a fucking dick_.” 

Sam glances at him and tucks away his small notebook. “Uh, yeah.”

“So, we have no idea what we’re after? I don’t know anything that kills like this.” Dean reverses smoothly and heads for the exit. “What’s your guess, Sammy?”

“Uh, wendigo? Were? I have no idea,” Sam sighs, then he squints in the direction of the school’s bike rack. “Pull over, hurry up. Look at that poor kid.”

There’s some tan, muscled guy holding a smaller boy against the side of a jeep. Dean pulls the car into a parking lot and Sam is out of the car before is stops all the way. 

“Hey!” Sam yells and the bigger one turns back to them, his face... shifting into a normal human one. “I think we just found our monster,” he whispers to Dean who has caught up to him and his hand hovers where he can easily grab his gun.

“What are you doing here?” the monster grinds out at the Winchesters and the boy behind him swats him on the shoulder.

“What? What is going on? Are they other wolves? Derek?” 

“Shut _up_ , Stiles.”

“No, this is--” Stiles takes Derek’s distracted moment to duck out from under his arm and skitters to the side of Sam and Dean.

“We’re not monsters,” Dean snaps and Derek’s eyes flash red. 

“They’re hunters.” 

“Oh, shit. Hey, you don’t understand, we’ve got a treaty with the Argents.“ Stiles nods, his lips pressed into a tight line. “Yeah, you’ve heard of the Argents; go have your hunter pissing contest with them.”

“Look, kid, I get the feeling you’re human, so this is your get-out-of-jail-free card. Get going.” Dean jabs a thumb over his shoulder and the kid visibly tenses. 

“Look, hunter, I get the feeling you clearly don’t understand the situation: my dad is the sheriff. All I have to do is pick up my phone--” 

“There is no need for this dispute,” Castiel announces from the spot where he’s just appeared.

Stiles shrieks and falls back against the jeep, Derek is poised to lunge, and Dean just claps a hand over his forehead. 

“Oh my god, oh my god. You’re Castiel? And you’re--you’re--” Stiles reaches over and grabs on to Derek’s jacket. “I am sharing breathing air with Dean Winchester, oh my god.”

“No. Nope. My name is--”

“Random classic rock musician. You have green eyes and sun-lightened brown hair. It’s shorter than I pictured which is nice, but I wouldn’t mind it either way.” Stiles slowly drifts closer and his hand trails slowly and absently across Dean’s chest. “How many weapons are you carrying right now- no, no. Don’t tell me, I’d rather just imagine--”

“Stiles,” Derek snaps and draws the boy back with a hand clamped over his mouth. 

Dean goes for his gun again but Stiles holds up one hand and peels Derek’s from his mouth. “No, no. It’s fine. Derek and I share a more profound bound.”

“Sam, stop laughing,” Dean barks and Stiles clutches Derek’s wrist in both hands.

“Holy shit, demons are real?” Stiles falls back against Derek and digs his phone out of his pocket. “I need to order, like, a salt mill. Oh, oh, oh.” He stills and looks to Castiel carefully.

“My--my mom. Is she--”,his voice breaks off and Derek’s arm goes from an iron band around his chest to a warm comfort against his ribs.

“Maria Stilinksi is in heaven,” Castiel assures him and Stiles scrubs at his eyes roughly. 

“Good. That’s good. What about Laura--”

“Stiles. Don’t.” Derek says brusquely and Castiel’s gaze drops.

“You don’t want to know?” Stiles asks incredulously and Derek’s face twists.

“My kind, we don’t go to heaven.” Derek shoves Stiles away and tilts his chin up. “I’m only asking again, what are you doing here?”

“We’re here investigating murders. You don’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Dean lets his hand rest on the hilt of his silver knife meaningfully and Derek snorts.

“I don’t know what kind of wolves you’ve been dealing with but silver doesn’t work on us.” Derek crosses his arms and Stiles purses his lips.

“I am kind of confused on one thing, don’t you guys all know the Argents? I thought they were like hunter-famous.”

“We’re not exactly your everyday hunters,” Sam interjects and Stiles barely glances at him.

“We do know _of_ the Argents, but it’s not like it really matters what hunters are up here. They aren’t getting the job done and that is that.” Dean curls his upper lip.

“Wow, I so want to be there when Mrs. Argent hears you say that.” Stiles laughs and Derek yanks open his passenger door.

“Stiles, get out of here. Pack meeting at six.” Derek guides him into the car with a firm hand (and expression) and ignores his protests. Stiles makes a loud irritated noise and then drives away. Derek turns back to Sam and Dean. “You will leave my territory, we have a treaty and we intend to continue following it. I don’t want to see either of you again.” 

“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen--”

“Dean,” Sam presses a hand against his brother's chest and raises his eyebrows at him. “We will totally do that.”

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “I can hear your heartbeats. Just--just stay away from my pack.”

“Right, totally.” Dean responds but Derek is already walking away.

“I can _hear_ your _heartbeats_.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, what exactly is the purpose behind this?” Derek asks and Stiles grins up at him from where he’s carving the last very specific sigil into the hard dirt that surrounds the warehouse. 

“The purpose is that we will know exactly when someone like, I don’t know, the Winchesters or the Argents pass through the marks and we can be prepared.” He stands and brushes his hands against his jeans. “And they just happen to have to added bonus of also causing the intruders to become incredibly dizzy.”

“Deaton’s work?” Derek questions as Stiles double-checks his work with a small leather bound book.

“Deaton’s work,” Stile confirms and when he looks up from the page Derek’s face is inches away from his. 

He doesn’t say anything but he does settle his hands low on Stiles’ hips. “Hi,” Stiles murmurs, crossing his wrists behind Derek’s neck and Derek’s face softens minutely.

“Hi.” 

Stiles’ phone beeps in his pocket, Derek huffs out a breath and tilts his head so their foreheads touch. “You should get that,” he rumbles and Stiles rolls his eyes.

“Or we can make out against my jeep? I’ll even let you get handsy.”

“Check your phone, Stiles,” Derek says and starts back towards the house.

***

“So, my guess is that we’re here,” Dean announces and Sam squints at him through the dusk. 

“How do you know?”

Dean just smirks and gestures to a trip line on the ground. Sam jabs it with the nose of his shotgun and a snare shoots up, caught on nothing.

“Judging from that red light that just turned yellow, that sent off a message to somebody.” Sam rolls his shoulders and they both freeze when they hear a safety click on behind them.

“I’m guessing that mantrap belongs to you?” Dean calls and a man chuckles.

“Yeah, that’s my... mantrap. Now, turn around. And don’t try anything.”

“Lemme guess, you’re Argent?” Dean sighs; the blonde dude in front of him is not that impressive. 

“Well, I actually have a few questions for you. For example,” Argent gestures to them both, “who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

Dean remains mutinously silent, his finger tapping a steady beat on the butt of his gun. 

“I don’t want to take drastic measures, but believe me I will.” Argent points his gun towards Sam’s shin and Dean laughs softly. 

“Look, buddy, I can tell you aren’t sure who you’re messing with, I get it. Not like there’s a hunter yearbook, but let me make one thing very clear.” Dean meets his gaze head on, his mouth a firm line. “If you put a bullet in my brother, you will end up begging me to kill you.”

“Looks like you’ve caught yourself a pair of Winchesters,” a second voice says from the left. “Sam and Dean, what are you doing so far West?”

“Well, we earned a little vacation time. Thought we’d stop by for a milkshake.” 

“So you know us but we don’t know you.” Sam tracks the stranger’s every move, “Care to enlighten us?”

“Gerard Argent.” He steps forward and offers his hand to Dean. “Chris, son, lower your weapon. We’re all on the same side here.”

“Of course.” Chris holsters his firearm and nods. “Sorry about that, boys.”

“I see that you have discovered our little... infestation. I assure you that we have it well under control.”

“Which is why there has been at least seven deaths in the last three months?” Dean snaps and Gerard blinks slowly. 

“Well, if it’ll make you feel better you can stick around. But we do have a treaty with the wolves, so I’d thank you to not get mixed up in that.”

“Yeah, totally. We can do that,” Dean lifts his chin. “See you later, guys.”

“See you later.” Gerard says and the walk off into the dark woods. 

“Well, that was really creepy.” Sam groans and Dean grunts in agreement. They jog out of the woods and then stop a few yards from the huge warehouse.

“So, we’re basically screwed, huh? Silver doesn’t work on them, they can change without a full moon, and they have a weird treaty with the Argents.” Sam says as they walk towards the huge, worn-down building.

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna figure it out like we always do--”

“Oh, what the hell?” Sam gasps, his arms pinwheeling as he tries to keep from falling over. 

“Can’t--see-straight--”, Dean manages and staggers toward him.

***

“Intruders.” Stiles announces abruptly, “Two of them.”

“Boyd, with me.” Derek snaps but Stiles’ hand on his arm stills him.

“Let them come to us. We’ll have the advantage in here, we know our way around. Out in the open we’re basically sitting ducks.” 

Derek is silent for a few seconds and then he sits back down. “Everyone but Erica needs to find some place out of sight.” The pack seems reluctant to leave their alpha and Derek’s eyes flash red. “ Go!”

Erica slouches in her chair with a huff and Isaac, Boyd and Scott all duck into the weird subway train. Stiles turns in his seat to face the door and Derek paces behind them. 

The door swings open. 

“What did you do to us?” Sam shouts, holding on to the door for support. Behind him gravity finally bests Dean and he faceplants against the ground. 

“If you want the spell removed you’ll throw your weapons over there and you’ll sit your ass down.”

“Fuckin’ witches.” Dean says emphatically into the dirt but he slides his gun across the floor. Sam follows suit and his gun clatters against against a far wall. Stiles leans over the arm of his chair and whispers in Erica’s ear for her to go break the sigil on the ground outside. 

She’s gone for less than a minute and Dean and Sam groan in unison once the spell is lifted. 

“So, the girl? She’s the witch?”

“That would be me.” Stiles responds and Dean pulls a face.

“So what is she? Wolf?” Sam asks and she lets her eyes flash golden and laughs when Sam flinches. 

“We’ve never encountered were like you guys before,” Dean plops heavily in a chair. “You seem a lot less crazy than the other ones.”

Derek remains stoic where he’s still standing behind Stiles’ chair. 

“Not huge on talking?” Dean questions and Derek tilts his chin up, alpha red coloring his eyes. 

“Look, we have enough crap going on without worrying about Shaggy and Fred wandering around.” Stiles leans against the table and meets Dean’s eyes. “You need to leave Beacon Hills.”

“Not gonna happen,” Dean retorts and Derek growls from behind Stiles. “People are dying. You think we’re just going to let you keep on killing?”

“What? You think we’re killing people?” Stiles laughs, “Way to stereotype, bro. We’re trying to stop the thing that is.”

“What do you mean?” Sam interjects, sitting down at the table.

“What do you know about a kanima?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget, you can follow me on Tumblr at [1984yearsforameliapond](http://www.1984yearsforameliapond.tumblr.com/)!

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget, you can follow me on Tumblr at [1984yearsforameliapond](http://www.1984yearsforameliapond.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
